


After and before

by travellinghopefully



Series: The Cardinal [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travellinghopefully/pseuds/travellinghopefully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there is some back story now - which means at least one flashback, which means my grasp of tense is gone/has gone/will go/went......</p>
<p>a little non-con (ish)</p>
<p>and, more smut, because</p>
<p>and, I may need to come back to this again - because I am not happy with it - its wandering into bodice ripper territory</p>
            </blockquote>





	After and before

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to @misswinterseat (thank you for being infinitely patient and encouraging and just really, really kind) the female protagonist now has a name - Aurelie 
> 
> and I started this over a month ago, but really struggled to edit it - from tomorrow I have a beta (yay) - hopefully that will improve things
> 
> be kind, be generous - msg me tips and hints and advice - thank you

The Cardinal a man of middle years, a former soldier, whip thin.

Extraordinary eyes, changing from the palest grey, through sea green to deepest blue

A consummate politician with an unmatched intellect, he was able to dissemble especially to the King. But his wrath his ire his enmity when roused were legendary

He was of a noble family and he held the office of Cardinal (from a young age having travelled to Rome to receive special dispensation to hold the office – it was an office of necessity rather than inclination, it fulfilled his family’s desire rather than a sense of vocation, he remained a man of needs – carnal).

The job brought with it the finest clothes, silks velvets, extravagant lace, fawning individuals who sought patronage or advantage, palaces – the indulgence of some and the hatred of others. 

Decadent (debauched, profligate, degenerate) food and wine. He was happiest with fruit, and bread and cheese.

The Cardinal didn’t prize these things, he preferred to live simply but comfortably, and he did like to be warm. He craved knowledge, and his agents were scattered throughout Europe delivering him regular reports. His official study was crammed with maps and books which he referred to for confirmation rather than need as his memory was faultless.

The Cardinal had long ceased to be able to afford the luxury of friends, but he did allow himself a mistress, although he questioned whether this was an allowable weakness. The desire he continued to feel was unquestionable but meeting that need was increasingly and perhaps unnecessarily complicated. He couldn’t claim anonymity or rely on the discretion of anyone to procure him a suitable diversion. He had been forced to execute one mistress for disloyalty, another had died in childbirth (he refused to acknowledge his grief, or contemplate the child may have been his). The current girl showed promise, but he was unsure it was worth the time, and the risk of her being used against him.

He had encountered far too many women who were demanding or capricious, he thought of the Queen, of Milady. 

Oh, he had plans for Milady. 

And, the Musketeers, endlessly frustrating. How to make others see that the needs of France were pre eminent? Everything he did, everything he sacrificied was for France.

Should he dispense with the girl now, before she became needy, before she became grasping? He mused, she had shown none of these tendencies so far.  
He had given her no gifts, no gowns, certainly no jewels. Admittedly he paid for her upkeep, but that was a trifling expense. He considered the maid he had provided her with and reflected upon her suitability for the task

Richelieu remembered his first meeting with Aurélie.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................

“I can offer you better than this.”

“Sir?” – who was this man that he spoke to an unaccompanied woman at her prayers? She was on her knees, in front of the candles by a stained glass window in the unparalleled Chartres Cathedral.

“You wouldn’t find me a demanding master”, he continued.

She turned my head, to where an aged housekeeper was sitting nearby, her head bowed in apparent prayer, but probably asleep. If she raised her voice, she could easily attract her attention.

“Sir, I do not know, what or who you think I am, but you are mistaken.” 

She hadn’t looked at him, or moved her position. She was still aware that he moved closer, the swish of his cloak, the sound of his boots on the stone was obvious.

“I think I know exactly what you are. You are a young woman, noble born, forced into unexpected circumstances, and there is the matter of the window you kneel beneath. You know its origins?”

Now he was asking her if she knew her parables? 

“Its my favourite Bible story, the prodigal son realises that even the servants in his father’s house receive better food than him and he races home and his father welcomes him with loving arms. A symbol that God will welcome us all if we are truly repentant and faithful.”

The memory had made him chuckle. “Rarely does anyone try to teach me my scriptures. I wasn’t referring to the theme. You must know who endowed the window?” With that he bent his head down by her ear and whispered, “The Guild of Prostitutes.”

She shot upright, raced towards the old woman, grabbed her arm and roused her. “Come, please, we must leave.”

“First you drag me to prayer and now you want to leave. You have been indulged too long, you are capricious and far too full of yourself. You are utterly spoiled. No wonder that fine young man no longer wanted anything to do with you.”

He had pondered the exchange at the time, and given it no further thought, an amusing moment in a dreary day. His hands itched a little at the thought of her flesh, but he would find other, willing diversions.

He had been compelled later that day to dine at the house of Le Marechal, with the Bishop, Archbishop and Abbe in attendance.

Hating these sort of gatherings, knowing what the people would be like, he had left it as late as possible before travelling to the house. 

No one greeted him at the door other than an aged retainer, an unpardonable discourtesy. The very least he expected was civility. As he strode through the house he heard a woman’s obvious cries. He despised those who hurt women, discounting his own behaviour. As he rounded a corner he found a man he presumed by his attire to be Le Marechal accosting a young woman. The woman’s dress was ripped, Le Marechal’s hands were up the girls skirts and pawing against her breasts. She was struggling valiantly but stood very little chance against a man of his size. The Cardinal gripped the man by his hair and ripped him away from the girl, without giving him a chance to collect himself he slammed the man’s head against the wall and then stamped on the inside of his knee, bringing him to the ground, where he delivered a final kick between his legs. 

The Cardinal turned back to the girl who he now found was the one from the Cathedral that morning. She was holding the tattered remnants of her dress up to her throat. It gave him pause that his plans for the girl had been little better than Le Marechal’s, but he had never taken someone who was unwilling, of that he could assure himself.

The man on the ground stirred. 

“If you have a room here, get to it, bar the door. I will find the means to send for you.”

She had flinched as she recognised your voice, but she wasn’t stupid, she knew the worth of a Cardinal.

........................................................................................................................................................

Replaying everything, he made his decision. He would summon her now and have done with her.

.........................................................................................................................................................

Cosette , went through her mistress’ wardrobe and laughed. Two dresses and three shifts.

She had more clothes herself, her own wardrobe barely closed. They had been passed to her by former employers. She wouldn’t be getting anything from this one, she would find herself as someone else’s maid soon enough. The Cardinal wasn’t going to stay interested in someone like Aurelie, she knew nothing and nobody and came from nowhere – how could she possibly entertain someone like his eminence? When Elise was alive, she could see the point of Aurelie, someone to fill the gaps, to pass a few moments, to scratch an itch.

She had been surprisingly uncowed when she had returned from the Cardinal the first time, and her body showed the marks of his use of her.

Cosette had expected the girl to fall upon her sobbing, but there had been none of that. She really couldn’t imagine how Aurelie had inspired the necessary passion for his eminence to react in such a way. Maybe he liked them passive and unlearned she mused.

Cosette found her mistress vapid and insipid, she went nowhere, she brought back no gifts to share, no juicy titbits of gossip which were a servants currency, not even any better food. At the very least Aurelie should share the details of her time with the Cardinal or as everyone else did, take a lover to secure her position.

She sulkily prepared Aurelie for her latest audience with the Cardinal. 

........................................................................................................................................................

 

Arriving in his eminence's rooms I dropped a hasty curtsy.

He summoned me towards him  
He grasped my by my shoulders and whipped me round. He said nothing, pushing me towards his desk. He grabbed my dress, gathering it in his hands and flipping it upwards. My shift met the same fate. His hand grasped the back of my neck forcing me forward and down and he shoved my feet apart with one booted foot. Still he said nothing. There was the faintest rustling of fabric and he was pushing against me, pushing into me. Suddenly there was loud knocking. The Cardinal's servants knew to allow no interruption, so whatever was occurring was of paramount importance. His eminence released his grip and gestured for me to hide beneath his desk. The door was already opening preventing my escape down the back stairs. Hastily hiding myself as instructed, the Cardinal seated himself and pulled his chair forward. He shouted “Enter!” to whoever was knocking so insistently against his door.

He had cautioned me to be quiet, but there was no reason why I should remain still. I could hear his eminence and his guest talking, but I paid it no mind.

I lifted the Cardinal’s robes and focused on doing as I pleased whilst he was unable to stop me.

He smelled of the herbs that scented his laundry, of sex, of sweat, of horses and of something that was uniquely him. 

He could doubtless administer a swift kick now and considerable punishment later, but in the meantime, I could do as I willed. 

I began by kissing his ankle, licking him and softly sucking on the delicate flesh. I would make as much use of the lessons he had taught me as I could. His leg shifted, but I pressed on. Licking and kissing and sucking and nibbling I worked up between his legs, past his knees to his inner thighs. 

I was puzzled to find him marked with welts and burns, treated with salve and healing, but obviously sore. 

I nuzzled against his hardness for a second and traced his length with my nose, marvelling at his heat and softness. 

Allowing him to feel my hot breath against him I turned my attention to the very top of his leg and bit into the soft flesh, definitely marking him as he had so many times marked me. I heard no change in the pitch of his voice and allowed a second to pass marvelling at his level of control. 

I gave my attention back to where he gave me the most delight, breathing out against him first and then touching the very tip of my tongue against him, dipping as lightly as I could into his slit. I pulled back and waited a handful of heartbeats and then ran the tip of my tongue down the length of his shaft, making sure to caress the underside of the head more than once. His hand found the crown of my head and his fingers knotted in my hair, pulling tightly.

As softly as I could I licked under and around his shaft caressing it with my tongue and sucking tenderly. His knee smacked into my shoulder – I presumed this was involuntarily as he surely didn’t wish to risk that I might bite? I laughed soundlessly, probably sending delicious sensations through his eminence if the movement of his hand on my skull was any indication. I gently released him from my mouth. Flattening my tongue I ran it up the underside of his length and again paused. His fingers were kneading my scalp, urging me onwards – so I bided my time, allowing my fingers to dip to meet my own need. His hand moved insistently so I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock and closed my lips round him and sucked. He wrenched my head upwards and thrust his chair backwards. 

His guest presumably had left.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” 

Having forced me upright I was pressed back against the edge of his desk. 

If I was going to be punished, I was going to make the most of this. I grabbed a fistful of the Cardinal’s robes and pulled him against me, kissing him as hard as I was able, winding my other hand into his hair.

He was far stronger than I could ever be and he prised himself away easily. Before he could begin to remonstrate with me, I dragged him back to me, teasing his bottom lip between my teeth, biting harder than I dared. I pushed my knee between the Cardinal’s legs, shamelessly rubbing against him, and finally he moaned and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me fiercely, abandoning his control. 

I may suffer dearly for this, but I was elated. One of his hands moved to gather up my skirts again, to push them out of the way, I helped as best I could and moved to free him from the confines of his robes. We were both clumsy in our haste, but we achieved our goals and soon he was sheathed in me, pounding into me relentlessly, and I was exultant. 

I lifted my legs and wrapped them round him, digging my heels into his arse, urging him on even though I was beyond sense and far beyond reason. He sank his head against my shoulder and I could hear his muttered blasphemies and barely uttered endearments. He cried out fiercely when he came and despite his lack of attention I found my own release moments after him, digging my nails into his flesh. He remained slumped against me for some moments and unlike all the other times he didn’t instantly turn from me. He murmured soft words and gently kissed my throat and breasts. Eventually he returned to himself and stepped away from me.

He regarded me for long moments and I didn’t look down. 

“You heard nothing of what passed between myself and my guest?”

“No, my lord.”

“Good, it would be unfortunate if you repeated anything you learned whilst you are with me.” His gazed was fierce and cold.

He looked me up and down again, and smiled.

“You need new dresses.” He turned as if to leave and then...

“I will expect you tomorrow evening in my private quarters, I trust you will be equally creative then.”

.......................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was always possible to change your mind.


End file.
